Where There's a Will, There's a Way
by Shreksy
Summary: X-Files/Dark Tower series Crossover. Agents Doggett and Reyes meet their match in a gunslinger and his three friends. More is to come, don't worry. :-)
1. There's a Way

Title: Where There's a Will, There's a Way   
Author: Shreksy   
Rating: R (so far) for violence and language   
Category: X-Files/Dark Tower Series Crossover, AU, implied DRR  
Crossover details: A little knowledge of the Dark Tower series by   
Stephen King would be useful, but not necessary. It will all be  
explained, do not worry!  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Doggett and Reyes meet their match in a gunslinger named   
Roland and his three friends.  
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters is mine. Doggett  
and Reyes belong to Chris Carter and Fox Television; Roland, Jake,   
Susannah, Eddie, and yes, even little Oy, belong to the King of   
Macabre, Stephen King. That said, no, I am not making any money off   
this. :-)   
Author's Note: This is my very first fic. Please be gentle!   
Feedback: YES! Please!! email: shreksydoggie@yahoo.com  
Dedication: The X-Piig, my faithful beta reader. I am forever in   
your debt! Thanks a billion!  
  
Chapter 1 - The Case  
  
"The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger   
followed." John Doggett closed a dog-eared copy of Stephen King's The  
Gunslinger and flung it on his partner's desk. "What's this?" he   
asked Reyes, shooting her a disapproving look.   
  
"Light reading." Monica Reyes didn't have to lift her head know the   
look her partner was giving her. She'd seen it many times before.   
Reyes could already tell her partner did not approve of her literary   
tastes. "It's quite good, John, You should try it."  
  
"Stephen King? No thank you. I get enough of that supernatural   
crap working down here." He sighed and leaned back in his chair.   
Mulder's "I Want to Believe" poster loomed behind him, supporting   
his statement. "Speaking of which, how goes the case?"   
  
The case in question was indeed a bafflement to both agents.   
Doggett argued that it shouldn't even be considered an X-File, yet   
Reyes felt that it should. She couldn't explain why, but she just   
knew that it was important. She also felt that they were the ones   
who needed to investigate it.  
  
Since there was an unusual lack of cases ("The aliens must have all   
gone home," Doggett had jokingly said to Reyes) Doggett decided   
to indulge Agent Reyes' request and agreed to investigate the case.   
After two weeks working on it, they had made absolutely no progress.  
Doggett was about ready to give up.  
  
There had been 10 victims so far, each one different from the next.  
There was no discernible pattern; their ages ranged from 20 to 57 and  
varied both in ethnicity and sex. The m.o. was the same each time:   
a single gunshot wound to the head. The real kicker was that the   
rooms the victims were found in were locked - from the inside. Each  
time there had been a thorough search, yet a murder weapon had not   
been found at any of the crime scenes. It was as if the perpetrator  
and the weapon had simply upped and vanished.   
  
The thing that struck Reyes the most about the crimes was their   
geographic locations. Plotted out on a map, the crimes occurred in a  
perfectly straight horizontal line. They had started on the Eastern   
Maryland seaboard and had now moved into Virginia. Doggett and Reyes  
did not know what to make these seemingly - yet not entirely - random  
murders.   
  
"The same. There are no witnesses for any of the crimes. Local   
police have interrogated everyone who were present in the surrounding  
buildings, and they've come up with zip." Reyes glanced up and   
caught her partner rolling his eyes.   
  
"They all report hearing the gunshot," she continued, "but   
nothing more."   
  
"One more day, Monica. I'm giving this case one more day and then  
I'm calling it quits. This case is a waste of our time." Doggett   
crossed over to his chair and picked up his jacket. "As for now, I'm  
heading home. I suggest you do the same." He walked back over to   
Reyes' desk and stopped.   
  
"And I suggest you stop reading that crap." He pointed at the   
book lying on his partner's desk. He smirked. "It'll give you   
nightmares. Goodnight Monica."   
  
"Goodnight John," Reyes called after him as he walked out the   
door. He could be so thickheaded and stubborn sometimes. Definitely  
one of his less endearing qualities, she thought to herself. Still,  
sometimes it could be cute. She chuckled to herself. "John, John,  
John, " she muttered. Closing the file, she decided her partner was   
right; it was time to call it a night.  
  
Continued in Part 2 


	2. Dreams

Chapter 2 - Dreams  
  
1  
  
Doggett Residence Falls Church, VA. 4:55 a.m.  
  
The golden light surrounded him as he reached out for it. The light seemed to be emanating from a rose - undoubtedly the most beautiful rose Doggett had ever seen. Before he knew it, the light had engulfed him completely. His heart leapt at what he saw next.  
  
He watched as a boy approached him. His heart danced as he realized who it was: his son, Luke. As the boy came nearer, however, the initial excitement left him. It wasn't Luke; this boy had black hair and appeared to be several years older. But the physical resemblance between them was uncanny.  
  
"What's your name?" Doggett asked as the boy stopped before him.  
  
"Jake. But that's not what's important right now. The rose is in great trouble, Mr. Doggett, and you must help it."  
  
"What rose? This rose? How is it in trouble? Who are you?" Doggett began to ask the boy, dumbfounded.  
  
"All your questions will be answered later, Mr. Doggett. He will come to you. Roland. Do not be afraid of him - he follows a quest similar to your own."  
  
"How do you know about Luke?" he screamed at the young boy. "How do you know about my son?" Doggett's face became a twisted knot of emotion. The likeness of this boy Jake to his son had opened a whole world of pain he had tried so hard to forget.  
  
His questions were in vain. The boy, the rose, and the light had disappeared.  
  
Doggett woke in a sweat to find his covers knotted at the end of his bed. He stared at his clock. 5:02 a.m. The whole thing had been a dream. He realized his flannel pants were drenched in sweat and rose from his bed to change them. His bare feet padded across the bedroom to his dresser. He looked at himself in the mirror; his electric blue eyes stared back at him. He ran a hand through his spiky short hair and down to his neck as he contemplated what he had seen.  
  
Roland. He recognized that name. Doggett racked his brain, trying to figure out where he had heard that name before. And then it came to him. Reyes' book. Roland was the name of the "gunslinger" featured in Stephen King's The Gunslinger. His mind had merely taken that information and used it in the dream.  
  
He was going crazy. There was no other way to explain it. All of those years of blaming himself for the death of his son caught up to him. His wife had caught on early and left before the boat started sinking. He figured he must have reached the bottom of the ocean by now. Now he was having dreams - ones so realistic he knew his partner would call them visions. She believed in those kinds of things. But not him. He knew better than to believe in all that supernatural bullshit. No way in hell was he having visions. He'd rather admit he was crazy than to succumb to that hoodoo crap.  
  
Doggett removed his sweaty pants and slipped on a pair of bicycling spandex. He was determined to forget what he had seen - the boy, the rose, all of it - and not tell anyone, especially not Reyes, about it. He had a feeling she'd find out, though. She had an uncanny knack for recognizing when something was wrong.  
  
He pulled a t-shirt over his well-muscled upper body, deciding it was never too early for a bicycle ride. Besides, it would help him clear his head and prepare him for another day at work. He prayed nothing had happened overnight on their current case, wanting to ditch it as soon as possible. He had a bad feeling about it.  
  
2  
  
Reyes' Apartment Georgetown, D.C. 5:00 a.m.  
  
  
  
Agent Reyes immediately recognized the man walking directly towards her. Surveying her surroundings, she found herself in the middle of an incredibly barren desert. The hot wind blew dirt in crazy circular patterns across the cracked and dry landscape. She blinked twice, trying to take in all her eyes were telling her. If her eyes were not deceiving her, the man walking towards her was none other than Roland of Gilead, straight out of Stephen King's Dark Tower series. She couldn't believe it.  
  
He looked like a ghost. Tall and lean, Roland was everything she had ever imagined. Though he was still too far away, when he came closer she knew his eyes would be a piercing blue color - much like her partner's. She knew how easy it was to fall in love with those eyes.  
  
As he drew closer, she could see that his once jet-black hair was now speckled with strands of gray. And his face - only once had she seen such pain and anguish on a man's face. It was the same pain she had seen on Doggett's face when he discovered his son's murdered body. Roland drew nearer, and stopped.  
  
"Monica Reyes." His deep, throaty voice echoed inside her head. It was wonderful. "We are well met."  
  
"Yes, we are well met indeed." She remembered that response from the book. "How is this possible? You exist in a."  
  
"Story? Yes. I asked Stephen not to write my story. But, like most storytellers - he didn't listen." He took a step closer. His eyes burned right through her. This man was intense.  
  
"I need your help, Monica of Georgetown. The world has moved on, but you knew that already. You and your partner-man, the one they call John Doggett, are part of our ka-tet, one from many. I have no doubt of your abilities as gunslingers - I have been watching. I need your help."  
  
Reyes gasped. She knew it was childish, but as soon as she had been introduced to Roland and his seemingly unrealistic world, she had wished to be a part of it. It probably had something to do with her vivid imagination.  
  
She must be dreaming.  
  
"I am flattered, gunslinger, but I don't think we can help you. I don't even know if all this," she indicated the desert landscape, "is real."  
  
"Very well. I will not take you if you are not willing. Whatever will be, will be. It's ka. But you'll see." He paused. "Has it occurred to you that your so called 'crimes' have appeared in straight line?"  
  
"Yes, of course. but what does this have to do with."  
  
"The Beam, Monica. Remember the Beam."  
  
Reyes awoke with a start. Roland's unforgettable voice continued to resonate in her head. She had seen visions like this a few times before, but none so realistic. She wanted to believe it; to believe that Roland and his quest were real. She looked at the clock: 5:02 am. She sighed as she rolled out of bed. Today was going to be a long day. 


	3. Graceham

Chapter 3  
  
Doggett Residence Falls Church, VA 6:30 am  
  
Doggett heard his phone ringing as he turned the knob, shutting off the stream of hot water that was stinging his face. "Awww, shit," he muttered as he quickly jumped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He sprinted towards the phone.  
  
"Yeah?" For the first time in his life, he hoped the voice on the other end didn't belong to that attractive brunette he called his partner.  
  
"John, it's Monica." Dammit. "There's been another murder."  
  
"All right, I'll be in the office in 20 minutes." He hung up the phone. He liked Monica. Hell, maybe he even loved her. But this time, he was not looking forward to seeing her. He wanted this case closed, kaput, end of story. Before it was too late.  
  
FBI Headquarters 8:15 am Washington, D.C.  
  
"Sorry I'm a little late," Doggett said as he entered the basement office. He was more than a little late; he had taken every wrong turn between Falls Church and the J. Edgar Hoover building. He didn't want to deal with this shit. Not today.  
  
Reyes looked up from the file she was studying and met her partner's gaze. His eyes - she shuddered as she remembered the dream last night. "A little late? John, you were supposed to be here at 7:10. What's wrong?" He partner was never late for anything.  
  
"Nothing, just had a little car trouble, that's all." He was lying through his teeth, and he knew his partner could tell. She could always tell things like this.  
  
"Ok, John." She quickly gave him a half-smile. "We'd better head out to the crime scene - they're expecting us there."  
  
  
  
Graceham Apartment Complex 10:38 am West Virginia  
  
The yellow police tape surrounded the outside of the apartment complex. Quite a crowd had gathered outside it; in this quiet country town, deaths of questionable nature were few and far between. The gray concrete building stood several stories high. It seemed normal enough, just like the other buildings in which the murders had occurred.  
  
"Apparently this small town ain't used ta this kind of excitement." Doggett remarked as he eyed the large crowd outside the building.  
  
"I guess not," Reyes said as she scanned the crowd. A tall figure wearing a cowboy hat caught her eye. She recognized the dark, handsome face at once. "Roland!" she thought to herself.  
  
"Monica!" her partner's voice interrupted her. She looked forward through the windshield and observed that she was about to hit the curb and drive over some of the local bystanders. She quickly swerved back on to the road and continued into the parking lot.  
  
"You ok?" Doggett asked, cautiously looking at his partner.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired." She smiled at him and parked the car.  
  
Reyes slammed the driver side door shut. Her dark eyes looked up at the overcast sky, as if she were expecting it to offer some sort of answer. She noticed that the clouds seemed to come together in a pattern - almost as if they formed a straight line.  
  
"You sure you're all right, Monica?" Her partner's voice brought her out of her daze.  
  
"Yes." She decided to keep her findings to herself. She'd tell Doggett later, if it proved to be important enough. "Let's go inside."  
  
Doggett held the door for her as they stepped inside. The two agents made their way up the stairs to apartment 302. A short, portly middle aged man stood in the doorway of the victim's apartment wearing a Sheriff's badge. The man turned out to be Harold Ellis, your typical small-town local Sheriff. He looked away from the doorway and straight at the two agents coming toward him.  
  
"Who're you?" he asked, in what seemed to be an exaggerated West Virginian accent. Doggett flashed his badge.  
  
"Special Agents Doggett and Reyes," he nodded to his partner. "We're with the FBI."  
  
"Ah can see that," Sheriff Ellis said, furrowing his brow, "but wut in the hell is the FBI doing out here?"  
  
Reyes jumped in. "Well, Sheriff, we've been investigating a series of murders just like this one," she gestured to the open door of the apartment. "Do you mind if we take a look around?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. whatever. Ah don't care." The sheriff's rotund belly jiggled as he moved out of the way.  
  
Doggett and Reyes entered into what seemed to be a very well decorated apartment. Cream colored curtains billowed around the open window. It was, after all, the middle of the summer. Officers milled around, dusting for prints and taking photographs.  
  
"The victim's name was Christina Mayer. She was found early this morning by her boyfriend, who had stopped by to take her to the airport. The two of them were going on a vacation of some sort," Reyes informed her partner as they made their way into the bedroom.  
  
"He noticed that the door was locked, so he broke it down. That's where he discovered her body. The door had been locked from the inside, as well as the windows. Once again, the gun is nowhere to be found." She turned to Doggett. "John, we can't just ignore this. Something weird - unexplained - is happening. Whether you want to admit it or not." She flashed her brown eyes at him.  
  
"All right, Monica. What'd you got?"  
  
"Well, umm." she looked out the window, "I've got a theory, but I'm not sure how plausible it is."  
  
"Aww, well it wouldn't be the first time." He grinned at her. She turned and met his grin with a half-smile.  
  
"I think it has something to do with." she quickly glanced out the window at the crowd below. The figure in the cowboy hat had reappeared - she hadn't imagined it, after all.  
  
"Hold on a sec, John." She started towards the doorway.  
  
"Mon - what are you doing?" John asked her, but it was too late, she was already gone. "Shit, Monica, what did you get us into?" He started after her.  
  
Reyes left the building at a slight run. She turned the corner, and there he was, standing in the crowd. The figure - Roland - saw her and ducked behind his fellow excitement-seeking members of the crowd. Reyes picked up the pace, her feet pounding on the pavement. She flashed her badge and screamed "FBI! Out of the way!" as she raced after Roland. He was limping, but he was still faster than she was. He rounded the corner in front of her, his duster flapping behind him. Reyes sped up and followed him around the corner, coming to a crashing halt right in front of her partner.  
  
"Jesus Christ Monica, what the hell is going on here?" Doggett shot his partner a concerned look.  
  
"Did you see the man? Did you see where he went?" She frantically looked around for Roland. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.  
  
"Monica, no, there was no man. Let's just go back inside, finish our questioning, and head back to D.C. I think you need a few days off from this case. It's getting to you."  
  
"John -" she started to protest, as her partner placed his hand on her shoulder. Looking at him, she knew she wasn't going to win this one.  
  
His eyes had that fierce determination in them - which meant she had no chance. He removed his hand and started back towards the entrance of the building. 


	4. 66

Chapter 4  
  
2:14 p.m.  
  
Highway 66  
  
Reyes watched the scenery fly by as Doggett drove back towards Washington. Farmhouse after farmhouse appeared, and then the housing developments started popping up. They were getting close. She sighed, looking away from the window. It was now or never.  
  
"John - you know that book I was reading? The one you dismissed as 'supernatural crap?' Well, I think." she paused. "I think it's real. Those characters are real."  
  
Doggett franticly kept from swerving off the road. He stared at Reyes, and realized that she was completely serious. "Why the hell would you think that?"  
  
"I know it sounds crazy, but I think these crimes are somehow connected to that other world. I had a dream last night - well, it was actually more like a visitation. It was too realistic to be a dream. Roland appeared to me and asked for our help. He believes that you and I are instrumental in his quest to save his dying world."  
  
Doggett emitted a frustrated laugh. "Monica, do you have any idea what you're saying?"  
  
"I saw him today, John. Standing in the crowd outside of the apartment building. At first I thought I had imagined it, but then I saw him a second time - and he fled. So I followed him. That's when I ran into you." She looked at him. "You haven't been having any dreams, have you?"  
  
"No, of course not. I'd never even heard of the book before yesterday. I don't even know who the fuckin' characters are." He couldn't accept it. "Monica, look.take a few days off. I don't think these cases are going anywhere, and I think you're tired and overworked. Your mind is beginning to play games with you."  
  
"John, I am certain of this. I know it sounds crazy - it is absolutely crazy - and I don't know how it's possible, but it is. I wish you could just accept that." She looked back out the window. "Shit," she thought to herself.  
  
Doggett pulled up outside of her building in Georgetown. "Please - just take a few days off. I'll call you tomorrow to see how you're doing."  
  
"All right, John." She knew he wouldn't accept any other answer. "What about Skinner?"  
  
"I'll deal with him. Just get some rest." He grinned at her. "Watch a little NASCAR, that'll cure anything."  
  
She laughed and opened the door. "Hah.yeah, sure John. I'll talk to you tomorrow." She closed the door and walked up the steps to her building. She turned, and he gave a little wave as he drove away. "Jesus, he'll never believe me," she muttered to herself as she fumbled for her keys.  
  
Doggett's demeanor changed as soon as Reyes closed the doors. He scowled, and ran his hand over his hair to the back of his neck. He was definitely going crazy. Characters that existed in a book - a supernatural fiction at that - could not exist in real life. It was as simple as that. 


End file.
